5. Jealous? Please.

Ophelia pov

Two days, it’s been TWO FULL DAYS of being locked in this house like a child and I’m already losing my mind.  

I sit on my bed with my knees pulled up to my chest and stare at the locked bedroom door. 

“Stupid,” I mutter under my breath and channel all of the anger I feel in the glare I give the door, but nothing happens. “What’s the point of having a monster inside me if it won’t free me from boredom?” 

Mom took my phone, dad Lazy made sure the guards know I’m not allowed past the front porch and even dad Luka looks at me like I might run the second they turn their backs to me. 

I hate this so much, it’s so unfair. 

My salvation comes in the form of a soft tap against the balcony door. A smile pulls at my lips as I jump off the bed, unlock the door and let Bree sneak inside my room. 

She brings a bag full of snacks and flashes me a pitying, even guilty smile. “Still grounded?” She whispers. 

“Obviously,” I mutter with an eyeroll and close the door behind her. “They’re treating me like I’m five years old. I can’t even walk to the kitchen without someone watching my every move.” 

Bree sits on my bed and opens a bag of chips, helping herself to snacks that are supposedly brought for me. 

“So, what’s the plan? You look like you’re about to climb out the window and never come back, but I’ll be the first person to tell you that’s a shit plan. I’m sorry, by the way.” 

I arch an eyebrow and sit next to her. “Sorry for what?” 

“This mess,” Bree grumbles and shrugs. “It’s my fault. The whole idea of going to the club was mine and if I hadn’t told you how much I wanted to see that place, you wouldn’t get in trouble.” 

I wave her off, “you don’t have to feel bad, it’s not your fault. If it wasn’t for Alister poking his nose where it doesn’t belong again, I wouldn’t be grounded. If you want to blame someone, blame him, not yourself.” 

Bree doesn’t look too sure, but she nods and focuses on snacking on the chips. 

For a while, the only sound in my room is her chewing and the distant sounds of the warriors training outside. 

“What are you planning?” Bree asks again, as if she remembered there was something we were supposed to discuss. 

I turn to face her and flash her the widest grin, “I’m working on an escape plan. There has to be a way to sneak out without the whole pack knowing, right? I’ve been sneaking glances at the maps, I’m sure there’s a place somewhere far enough where no one from our territory could follow me around like I’m some fragile, lost princess.” 

Bree arches an eyebrow, “you’re already planning the next big escape? Really, Ophie? Didn’t you learn from your mistake after what happened at the club? Maybe they’re right, I mean, what if you just lay low until the ceremony and enjoy the freedom after?”  

“The ceremony is months away,” I groan and flop down on the bed. “This is stupid and you know it. My behavior isn’t even that bad, you’ve heard the stories my grandmother tells about my biological dad, he’s like a million times worse.” 

Bree tosses the pack of chips aside and lays down next to me, leaning closer. She has always loved stories about my dad nearly as much as I do. 

“Grandma Seth said he was wild,” I say and let a grin spread across my lips. “Like, really wild. He used to disappear for days just because he felt like it, loved spoons more than any normal person should and made weapons out of them. Grandma said he carried one around like it was a sacred object. Oh, and he had this… thing inside him, a hellish creature, Atlas or something. Grandma said it made him dangerous and unpredictable. He needed blood sometimes and got into the most ridiculous situations but somehow always came out of them laughing.”  

Bree’s eyes widen. “Spoons? For real?”  

“For real,” I say as the grin pulls so wide my cheeks hurt. “She told me he threatened an entire medical staff with a bloody spoon when mom was giving birth to me. After I was born, dad named me after cartoon robots without asking anyone. Grandma said he used to go on these ‘enthusiastic walks’ in the forest and come back covered in dirt and blood, acting like nothing happened. Everyone was scared of him, but mom still loved him, all of them did.”  

I close my eyes and picture my dad, holding me as a baby. Sometimes, I wonder how he looks now, if anything has changed at all, or if he’s still alive. Grandma says he is, she can feel it in her heart, but all this wait is killing everyone. 

Quickly, I shake my head to focus on now rather than memories. “Anyway, if he was allowed to be that chaotic, why am I the problem? I just went to a club, I didn’t threaten anyone with a spoon or disappear into the woods for days. I just wanted one night of freedom. I’m bound to rebel, that shit is in my blood.”

Bree considers my words for a moment, then nods seriously, “okay, that actually makes sense. Your dad sounds insane, but like, in the best way.”  

“Exactly,” I agree and sit up. “Everyone still talks about him like he was this legend, but in the meanwhile, I get grounded for dancing. That’s not fair, you can see it too, right?”  

Being the awesome best friend Bree is, she agrees with me. I knew I could make her see reason. For a while after, we don’t talk about anything, just sit in the comfort of the silence until the sky starts turning dark and I know that soon, she’ll have to sneak out and go back home. 

Eventually, Bree slips off my bed, stretches and grins. “I gotta go home soon, but before I go, I wanted to ask what really happened that night at the club? You never told me the full story, I only saw Alister dragging you out. What got him so pissed?”  

I press my lips together, not really wanting to answer the question, but at the same time, I know I have no other option, so I get up and walk closer to whisper, “the Graves twins cornered me when I went to the bathroom. Hayes put his nose on my neck and said I smelled like Vincent scum, then Alister showed up, almost broke Hayes’s wrist, punched Tate, and dragged me out by my collar.”  

Bree stares at me, her eyes wide. “Holy shit, you didn’t tell me any of that.”  

“I know.” I groan and run a hand through my hair, “it’s not like I’m proud of what happened.”

She watches me for a long moment and tilts her head, humming, “what if Alister got jealous? Like, protective-jealous?”  

Her words catch me off guard so hard, I let out a short, bitter laugh. “Alister, jealous? Please, he looks at me like I disgust him, he’s been looking at me like that since I can remember myself.”

“Still,” Bree shrugs, “sounds like he went after the Graves twins pretty darn hard.” 

I bite the inside of my cheek and consider if I should share more or die carrying that shame. Eventually, I decide to speak - Bree is my best friend, she knows everything about me and understands. “There’s something else, but you must promise me you won’t tell a soul.” 

Bree nods and leans closer, whispering, “you know your secrets are safe with me.” 

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and whisper, “when they had me pinned against that wall and Hayes  had his nose on my neck… I think I felt something.”